the turn
by Caliey127
Summary: sequel to 'a different kind of love'. four years after voldemort's defeat. psychedelic hermione is in play.
1. Chapter 1

hey guys! im back, after quite a bit of time being unactive in the writing community xp but im back with a sequel and hopefully an eragon fanfic soon which i expect all of you to read! lol

right, so hermione is still the same version as i had in 'a different kind of love' just a bit older, and the story is gonna be switching back and fourth from harry and hermione's perspectives i think, though i havent entirely decided.

to respond to a couple unacnowleged revews from my last story: terrance really didnt have anything to do at all with the rest of the story, i just put him in there to add a bit of flavor and make you guys not like someone xp, but who knows, he might make a reapperence in the upcoming chapters ;)

and i will make absolute sure to start adding more dialogue from here on out! i know the fact that i had very little came up often in revews. so ill fix that :)

as always, i hope you enjoy my version of hermione, and i hope some of my previous readers will come back for more. and im not perfect! so please let me know if i messed up or oopsied in any way shape or form in the form of...you guessed it- REVIEWS! *throws hands up into the air*. i really would love for you all to review a bit more...it might provoke me to write and update more often...*hint hint*...*caugh caugh*...*nudge nudge*...and its like the little box says, "a well rounded review is sometimes the most valuble thing to a writer, so please take this golden opportunity to offer a little advice, praise or tips," or something like that lol but seriously, it really is true, and i encourage you to write a little something at the end of most chapters. questions, comments, *constructive* criticism, or anything else that happens to pop into your head, not just for me, but for all writers here. we feed on your responces! it helps us grow :)

great well, ill stop blabbering, and let you all get to reading what is (in my oppinion) a fantastic story! read and review! peas and tangerines ;) (aka please and thank you lol)

enjoy :)

~Seph

The turn-around sequel to _A Different Kind of Love… _in other words, same Hermione, only every ones four years older…

Harry walked in to his apartment from work and looked around with a bored attitude. He wouldn't deny that he wasn't as bad as most bachelors,*ahem, _Ron_*. There were no piles of dirty dishes in the sink, no dust bunnies floating around on the hard wood floors, and he didn't use his living room furniture and kitchen appliances as hangers, but there was a dull sense about the place. It was neat, somewhat classy for a guy (the furniture matched and the dishes were a set) but it needed…something. He just couldn't put his wand on it. Some inner part of him, not to mention most of his best mates told him it was lack of a woman, but he almost refused to believe that.

Actually, he was quite popular with the girls, being Harry Potter and all, and surprisingly, a great number of those women liked him for his personality, not his fame. But no matter how long they had been dating, (two years was his longest and most recent) he just never suggested the move-in step in the relationship. Eventually, either he would break it off, or his girlfriend would get tired of waiting for him and end it.

"Oi! Harry!" Ron's head said suddenly from the fireplace, "Stop mopeing around mate, and go get Hermione. Our reservations up in an hour!" the head disappeared.

Ron had made reservations for the three of them at one of the most elegant restaurants in London. It was rather surprising, though it was not that he couldn't afford it. Ron as you could've guessed had tried out for, and made the Chudley Cannons two years ago and was now their first keeper. They usually just met for drinks and talks at the Three Broomsticks. Today was nothing special as far as Harry could remember.

He went to his bathroom to look himself over once, loosen his tie, and ruffle his hair in habit before he went to get Hermione.

Hermione.

She had changed so much since seventh year, her attitude especially. She had finally told him and Ron about what had happened to her over the summer. She'd told them about Draco too; needless to say, they hadn't been very good recipients to that news. It had taken them the rest of the school year to accept and believe Malfoy, in which time the odd couple had ended their relationship. According to Hermione, they had ended on good terms and still kept in touch from time to time. Harry and Ron still kept a good distance. He shook his head to get the flashbacks out, then ruffed his hair one last time and apparated to the living room of Hermione's small apartment. He looked around the apparently empty apartment expecting Hermione to round a corner and give one of her crazy, (or psychedelic, depending on how she felt that morning) haired hugs but instead got…a lamp to the head.

He ducked just as the lamp soared through the spot his head had been in to crash against the wall and onto the floor in many pieces (which was quite a feat, considering the lamp was stainless steel). Harry heard the shouting then and stepped quickly out of the way as a short pudgy little man walked brusquely into the room from the kitchen. He was clutching a few papers to his chest and had another handful of them tight in his fist. He brushed past Harry, practically running as he shouted, "Two days, Ms. Granger. Two days!"

"Two bloody days! Are you bloody mad?" came the answering shout as Hermione appeared, a coffee pot clutched in her hand.

"Two days!" repeated the pudgy land lord, "or Ill be forced to keep your security deposit." He shook his papers at her then shot out of the room as the coffee pot smashed into the outside hall wall, barely missing his balding head.

"You'll probably just find another stupid reason to keep it anyway you pathetic excuse for a land lord!" yelled Hermione to his echoing footsteps. She was fuming- literally; smoke was trickling out of her ears and her eyes were glowing lividly.

Harry made an 'ahem' sound and said, "Wow, that was…ah… something." Hermione looked over at him quickly as she barely realized he was there.

"Oh! Harry!" she said and smoke abruptly stemmed and her eyes went back to their almost-natural colors, "Im so sorry you had to see that." She bustled out into the hallway, smoothing her hair self-consciously on her way. Some of the ends were sticking up.

"Don't worry about it Hermione," said Harry, waving his wand and muttering a quick _Reparo _at the smashed lamp, then at the wall as he noticed the not-so-subtle crack in it. He set it on the nearest coffee table, "So what was all that about?"

"Oh," said Hermione as she came back inside with a now intact coffee pot, "he's been giving me a hard time since about two months ago, when I accidently saved his life," she disappeared into the kitchen again.

"Accidently?" said Harry, following her and leaning on the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, he was about to be run over and I shoved him out of the way."

"You shoved him?" repeated Harry, trying to make sense of Hermione's explanation.

"Yeah, well I didn't exactly have time to get out of the way myself," she grimaced, "I dematerialized."

"Ahh…" said Harry, understanding. He could only imagine the land lord looking up from the pavement and seeing Hermione burst into a billion pieces, only to materialize right next to him a second later, right as rain. To be perfectly honest, it had taken both him and Ron a bit of time to get used to her new abilities, and Harry never really knew what she was going to come up with next. "I take it he didn't exactly take well to that?"

"No!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up, "he called me a death-bringing devil worshipper and ran back across the street! He almost went splat again!" She sat down heavily in one of the kitchen table chairs, "Hes been trying to get rid of me ever since. You heard him, two days to get out because my last payment was a day late."

Magic haters had been popping up ever since Voldemort's defeat four years ago. Not that any wizard could blame them; Voldemort and the Death Eaters had treated muggles just as bad if not worse than muggleborns and they understood that muggles could only handle so much. But about a year after magic had been made known to the world, (such a big event like that couldn't be washed away by magic means) wizard haters had sprung up like weeds, leading protests, starting riots and in some cases, even trying to sue people they believed to be wizards or witches. Another year after that and extremists' had tried to start up public witch burnings. It was a mess. Even now, things were barely starting to settle down, though some things were still going on in secret. And of course, witches and wizards got themselves in the kind of situation Hermione was in now.

"That's stupid of him." agreed Harry, "What are you gonna do?"

"Move out I guess," Hermione said defeatedly, "packing obviously isn't much of a problem, nor the moving part. it's the finding-another-apartment part I'm worried about. By now that jerk is sure to have sent any complexes with vacancys a fax saying not to let me live there."

"Hermione," said Harry, an idea occurring to him, "Why don't you just come live with me." She stared at him. "Really!" he said, liking the idea as he though about it more, "I have plenty of room, you know I do, you've even slept in the spare room before. I wont charge you rent, wait," he said as she opened her mouth to protest, "At least until you find another place. You can of course stay as long as you want. Think of it as a temporary place to relax and calmly find a more permenant place." He smiled as he finished his argument. He didn't tell her that she would stop him from feeling more lonely.

"Aw Harry, that's supper sweet of you, but I don't think you'd be able to stand me as a roommate. Especially with my schedual." she grimmiced, "I'd be coming in and leaving at all hours of the day!"

"Hermione, I know." he laughed. Hermione was an Auror, like him, "and honestly, it wouldn't be any trouble at all."

"But the rent! You cant expect me to take up space where you live and not pay rent!"

"Hermione," Harry said, "you wouldn't be taking up any space at all, really. There's plenty of room as you know, and if you're that adamant about the rent, I don't know, just split the chores with me. That will be more than a fair trade. And I've lived with you before Hermione, you really aren't as bad as you think you are." he could see her twisting and turning the idea in her head, trying to find another argument against it, "Hermione, it would be for as long as you needed. There's no way you're finding another apartment in two days. Why stress yourself out when you really don't have to."

He could see the gears working in Hermione's head trying to come up with a way to refuse, but she remained silent.

"Great!" he said, clapping his hands together and standing up, "its settled. Tomorrow Ill come stop by again and help you pack, and by noon you can get your security deposit back from you land lord. Now come on, get dressed, Ron will throw a fit if were late to his reservation."

"His reservation? What are you talking about?"

"Hermione, His diner reservation he told us about two weeks ago." He laughed; it was still discerning how much her busy schedule made her forget things. Discerning, but funny.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, remembering, "I cant believe I forgot! Give me two minutes!" and with that, she dashed passed him and disappeared into her room.

She was indeed, back out in a couple minutes, wearing a black pencil skirt, a white top and black heels. Her hair was slicked back with a part to the side in a ponytail, an all around elegant look.

He straightened his tie, and held his arm out at an angle for her to take, "Shall we, Ms. Granger?" he asked in a formal voice. Hermione laughed, grabbed her purse from the couch and took his arm. He lead the way, apparating to the restaurant.

well...whad you all think huh? i wanna know! shoot me a review! :)


	2. Chapter 2

***sorry guys! im a little bad with updating on a regular basis...ok, so im REALLY bad with updating on a regular basis xp. ill try and do better :S i hope i havent lost all my readers...but i hope you like this second chapter! please review! :)

Chapt. 2

They had a fantastic time at the restaurant. Harry apparated them into an alley behind the building so as not to startle any muggles walking by, and they'd walked in right behind Ron and…Luna. The two had been dating for the past year and a half, as unusual as they seemed together, they fit.

The restaurant had been serving a special five course meal that night, and the four friends ate their way steadily through it all, laughing, joking and reminiscing. And to everyone's surprise, halfway through the meal, Ron had gotten down on one knee and proposed to Luna. It was then that Ron's intentions and planning for the night finally made sense.

When dinner was over, Harry and Hermione excused themselves as it was clear that the happy couple wasn't going to stop making goo goo eyes at each other anytime soon. They thanked Ron for dinner, congratulated the pair and walked out arm in arm around the building to dissapparate back to Hermione's apartment.

"That was fantastic!" said Hermione as they rounded the corner, "It was about time too!"

Harry laughed, "He certainly took his time about it didn't he. But really, a few years ago, could you ever have imagined those two as a couple? Let alone married?" he chuckled again.

"Well, I guess there were some signs,"

"Really? Like what?" and he laughed when Hermione couldn't come up with anything.

They had reached their aparating point by now, "So, to your flat then?" asked Harry. Hermione hesitated.

"Harry, I really don't feel comfortable imposing on you like this. I have two days, I'm sure I can find a reasonable place by then."

"How many times have I got to tell you, it wouldn't be imposing at all. You're one of my best friends, we've been practically to hell and back together. You and Ron watched my back, I watched yours, and we're still doing it! This is me watching your back for you Hermione! And I'm happy to do it!"

Hermione opened her mouth again to protest.

"But fine," Harry said, before she could get any words out, "If you're that uncomfortable with it, I wont push you. But I have a deal for you then," Hermione glared suspiciously at him, but motioned for him to continue, "Let me help you look for a flat, and if you cant find one by the time you're lease is up, you move in with me."

Hermione looked up, clicking her foot on the street, thinking. Harry just looked at her, sure that he had covered everything this time and that she wouldn't be able to refuse.

"Well I wouldn't have any other choice would I?"

He was right.

Harry shook his head, trying to retain his smile. She kept on clicking.

"Fine," she crossed her arms, grudgingly, " you've got a deal. But you look bloody hard, Potter, if you're really gonna help me look. And you're still going to help me it does take longer than two days. Not that it will!"

He laughed and offered her his arm once again, "Shall I escort you home Ms. Granger?"

She pursed her lips, but a small smile escaped anyways. She nodded, took his arm, and they were off.

Two days later and Hermione still hadn't been able to find a decent apartment. Harry had gone with her to look at many, about five actually, all with reasonable rent, positive references… and absolutely horrid first impressions.

The first had a landlord who looked as old as Godric Gryffindor himself and as rotten as Hermione's current landlord. He repeatedly interrogated her as to whether or not she was a witch, and practically chased them out of the building with his cane.

The second was roach infested. Enough said.

The third looked promising: one story, nice upkeep, fully furnished, even had a smallish back yard. The landlady was lovely even. Hermione was just about to sign…and then the objects had started moving. Lamps flying across the room, cabinet doors opening and slamming, and she swore she felt the carpet move under her feet. Hermione decided she did not want a poltergeist as a roommate.

The fourth was also fully furnished, on the third floor but looked-and smelled-as though an older lady had lived-and died-in it previously. And then there was that dodgy looking stain on the cream colored carpet. When Harry asked the landlord, the man did admit the previous tenant had died of a heart attack and hadn't been found until a week after her death. He then added that she had had quite a few cats, "who hadn't been fed in a few days so…" he left off his sentence and looked in the direction of the stain. Hermione walked out then and there, Harry following looking quite green.

The last apartment had the most potential. It was modern, also fully furnished, good rent, and no one had died and been eaten by cats. It was the landlord who spoiled this one however. His eyes had lit up when Hermione walked in the office and he'd taken her hand at once, led her up the stairs to show her the apartment (followed by a peeved looking Harry) and hadn't let her hand go since, despite her many attempts to free herself. Then when he put his arm around her waist and said that his apartment was right across the hallway that was the end of it. This time it was Harry who ran her out of the building, while the landlord called after them, "Ill look forward to your call, love!"

Now the paperwork was drawn up and it was only a few hours before Hermione had to "vacate the premises". She was still apartment-less, and rather depressed. Her apartment was empty but for a smallish, blue suit case which she was sitting in front of on the floor.

"Come on Hermione," Said Harry, trying to cheer her up a bit, "Those can't be the only ones in London."

"Right, so its just my luck to pick the haunted, roach-infested, died-in, womanizing apartments right off the bat! That's just great."

"Hermione, you know my offer still stands."

Hermione sighed, looking around dejectedly at her soon to be ex-apartment.

"And I should have taken you up on it the first time you offered. I have to admit, I think I just didn't want to leave so soon. This has been my home for the last four years. I'm sorry I wasted all this time and effort on your part Harry."

"Don't. I understand completely, you don't have to apologize." He went to sit next to her on the floor. He looked over at his best friend who seemed to be looking at a ball of lint on the floor as though it held one of her most precious memories.

"You know, you'll still have my help searching, and I bet your next apartment will be even better than this one. Perhaps in a nice wizarding complex that doesn't have such a beanbag of a landlord." The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched upward.

"A beanbag Harry?"

"Yeah well, pratt seemed maybe too harsh of a word for this bloke, don't you think?"

Hermione sat up straighter, her shoulders squared back, and there was a defiant look in her eyes. _Good _he thought, _that's more like the Hermione I know. _

"You know what," she said, standing up. Harry stood up with her, "I think a pratt is exactly the right word for him. Well done Harry, I think we should go let him in on that fact, don't you?" and with that, she grabbed her suitcase off the ground, and walked out of the apartment, shutting the door and locking it with a sense of finality after Harry.

Twenty minutes and an apparition later, Harry and Hermione sat at the bar of a locally favorite wizards pub, Spellman's Pub (go figure) that was only a few blocks away from her now ex-apartment and hidden from muggle eyes. Hermione was looking quite a bit better with a drink called "Felix Felicis" in her hand. It was supposed to make you forget all your present worries, and brink you good luck in the future, at least that's what the barman told Hermione when she asked for something strong.

The landlords office lay in paperwork ruin after the man had tried to deny Hermione her security deposit, as she had earlier predicted. There had been many inventive uses of the word 'pratt' also, and Harry was quite sure the pudgy man was still cowering in the corner of his office next to his now useless filing cabinet.

"So how is it," Hermione asked him, taking a swig of her drink, "that you can have this one huge house all to yourself, you know somewhere you wouldn't be bothered too much by the attention from reporters you so detest, and you don't live there?"

Grimuled Place. Harry had tried living there at first, after things had settled down with both sides of the world, but it had felt overwhelming. It had swallowed him up in memories, thoughts and darkness reminding him too much about Sirius and Dumbledore. For him, it held no truly happy times to be thought of, and he wasn't quite ready yet to work on making some. No, the house was left in hiding with only Kreature to look after its empty hallways, not that he minded.

To Hermione, he only said, "Ill move back in one of these days." And she left it at that.

It was after Hermione's fifth Butterbeer and fourth "Felix Felicis" that Harry called it quits, for both of them. She hardly ever drank after all, and though he understood her reasons for it, enough was enough.

She gibbered on about pudgy landlords and not having enough luck in any department as Harry tossed a few sickles on the counter and steered her through the doorway. It was fully dark by this time, and the night folk were starting to wake up. Harry threw dark looks at a couple of wizards passing into the pub who looked just a little too long at Hermione's still gibbering form. Hermione didn't even notice, though she did notice how, "pretty the hars look Starry!"

Harry thought it dangerous for them to apparate with Hermione in this condition, so they continued walking down the street, Harry keeping a firm hold on her elbow and listening to her go on about the most random subjects.

_I hope that drink was worth it Hermione,_ though Harry, _for the morning you're gonna have tomorrow._

"Alright Hermione," he said aloud after about ten minutes of walking, "hang on tight, I'm apparating us back to my apartment."

"Oh I can do it Harry!"

_At least she can pronounce my name right now…maybe the drink is wearing off…_

He released her elbow and she took a step forward – and promptly tipped to one side. Harry caught her before she landed in the street but Hermione was laughing.

"Why are you holding me Harry? Cant you see, I'm perfectly alright now."

"Oh yeah, you're right as rain. Now come on, hold tight, and don't you dare let go."

"Rain? But there isn't any rain tonight Harry. Harry? Have you been drinking?" she hissed this last part, trying to be patronizing but she wrapped her arms around his neck all the same.

Harry snorted with amusement, but managed to contain his laugh.

He held her tight with both hands around her waist and looked around to see if anyone was around, but the street was empty.

He thought to himself, _her hair smells nice…like lavender_, and then he spun on his heel.

***so? what did you think? it probably wasnt worth the wait, i know, but i hope you liked it :) review if you did! and review if you didnt! its ok! lol till next chapter, which i promise wont take as long xp lol )


	3. Chapter 3

Harry ended up having to carry Hermione wedding style to the spare bedroom. Her knees had gone from under her the moment he apparated into his living room and had nodded off somewhere between the washroom and the bathroom.

He took her heels off, undid her ponytail, the smell of lavender washing over him again, and pulled a few covers over her. Sleeping, she looked almost sober. Chuckling to himself, he walked across the hall cattycorner, kicked off his own shoes and collapsed on his king-sized. No more four-posters for him.

He closed his eyes.

Ron's face popped into his mind. His face had gotten paler and paler as dinner progressed. At one point, Harry asked with a joking attitude what Luna would say if Ron proposed. Ron had blanched even more and mumbled something into his water glass. Luna however had just smiled and said, "Well somebody has to keep the Snarclops away, so I suppose yes. Yes would be my answer." And just a few minutes before he proposed, he looked seriously ill enough that Luna had leaned across and asked, "Are you feeling alright Ron? Is it the Snarclops again?" Ron shook his head, and got up facing her. After he'd gone on and on about how lucky he was to have Luna, and a few other sappy thoughts, he sank to one knee, and popped the question. His face was now almost white and there was a hopeful look. Luna thought for a minute. Literally a minute had gone by in which Ron stayed on the floor with the ring out stretched and people forgo their meals to stare openly. The hopeful look turned into one of utter distraught.

Then Luna, "What are you still doing on the floor Ron? I'd already said yes ages ago."

Ron's face lit up like a Christmas tree. Harry had never seen his best friend so happy before, not even when he had made Keeper to his idol quidditch team. There were stars in his eyes and a happy glow had replaced his paleness.

_I wonder what that feels like…_

Harry rolled onto his back and undid his tie. He threw it on the floor and closed his eyes again, drifting off into dreams of happy glows and lavender…

Harry's senses were the ones to wake him up the following morning. Rich black coffee, citric spices…and burnt toast.

He roused himself from sleep- what was he dreaming about again?- and dragged himself into the hall way.

"Bloody hell…Reparo!"

He leaned against the kitchen doorway and crossed his arms, an amusing smile making its way onto his face. Hermione was bent over his toaster, poking it with her wand, and there was what looked like his entire stock of bread piled on the counter, all extremely burnt.

"I wouldn't fuss with that thing," he said. Hermione looked up, somewhat startled.

"Oh! Harry, I didn't hear you wake up…I was just…" she motioned to the pile of burnt toast, "Ill pick more bread up at the market later." She wore a sheepish expression. Harry laughed.

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out the remaining four slices of bread. Waving his wand, the bread turned a crisp golden brown, and floated over to an empty plate that was undoubtedly meant for the toast.

"I haven't used that toaster in months, ever since it gave out on me. " He motioned her over to the chair across from him. Hermione took it, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and gave him a quizzical look.

"Then why on earth haven't you replaced it?"

He shrugged, "Hadn't gotten around to it I guess." He took a sip, "Mmm, this is good."

"I poured a bit of the hazelnut syrup I found when I was looking for eggs. When's the last time you went grocery shopping Harry, you fridge is bare."

He opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't remember. She laughed.

"I haven't had time!" he objected, trying not to laugh as well, "I've been cornered up at my desk for the last two months working on the Blackburn case. Bastard's fourth victim was found a week ago. She was walking out of an ally way going on about Billywigs and barn owls."

Mantis Blackburn was currently top of the list of Britain's most wanted wizards. He was a rogue follower of Voldemort. He had never been branded with the Dark Mark, but his was one of the few remaining pureblood families who still believed in the ideas of Tom Riddle. They hated muggles, and despised even more Muggleborns. Blackburn, head of his family had, two months ago abducted a young muggleborn witch. She was found two weeks later, also speaking gibberish…and without magic. Even now, after a full month and a half of being treated in St. Mungo's, she didn't recognize any of her friends who were wizards or witches, and was unable to utter the simplest spell. Her magic was just…gone, and all her memories related to it as well.

"There haven't been any clues as to where he might be hiding? Where's the girl?"

"No," he said, buttering up a toast, "None of his family have seen him, so they say, and we cant question them further because they're testimonies have been under Veriteserum. The girl, Victoria Brown, was admitted to St. Mungo's."

"Brown?" Said Hermione, looking up from pouring hazelnut into her coffee, "She's not related to-"

"Lavender? Yeah, she is. A cousin."

"But they're Pureblood. It would fit Blackburn's pattern."

"And it wouldn't, but then we found out that Victoria married a Muggle, two days prior to her abduction."

Hermione shook her head, "This is madness. Kingsly needs to put me on the case, I don't understand why he doesn't. Or at least let me interrogate his family. I have methods stronger than Veriteserum. "

"That's exactly why he doesn't Hermione. He doesn't trust- well he does, but the rest of the Wizingamott doesn't trust your methods. At least not the ones that came with your accident. They cant trace the methods you use, not like they can spells and potions. They don't understand them, and they don't want the press on their backs anymore with anything involving your powers."

Hermione knew this. There had been a huge to-do when she took the test to become an Auror three years ago. She passed, with flying colors, using only her wand and the magic she had before her accident. It was known by now that her powers were different, but she and her friends had been discrete and the full extent of what she was really capable of stayed unknown, even to this day, and she was welcomed into the Ministry with open arms. It was only after she had closed a few of her first cases that the Ministry began looking more closely into the methods she used.

There was one case, that of an escaped Death Eater that brought the press swarming over her and the Ministry. It was taking her team ages to find him, time they didn't have. Muggles were dying by the hour, and the one lead they had, a close friend of the Death Eater's wasn't talking. Even through large quantities of the truth potion, they were unable to pry the location of Voldemort's follower from him. Hermione had finally snapped after fourteen hours of interrogation, and threw her mind straight at his.

Methods of occlumency were tried before, by some of the best Occluments the Ministry had, but none of them were able to find anything of value. But when Hermione used it, she didn't even have to think. The suspect's body went ridged, and he was unable to do anything at all, move or speak or protest, nothing as she sifted mercilessly through his thoughts and memories. She found that the Death Eater had been retreating back to his childhood home, and that he was most likely there that very moment.

Hermione found him that night, not five minutes after she pulled herself from the man's mind. She walked into the house, she saw the Death Eater with his wand pointed at a young boy, about to throw the torture curse at him. In her fury, Hermione tore the house apart, not even bothering with her wand.

When the ministry arrived a few minutes later, the Death Eater was tied up and unconscious, his wand and his wand hand shattered. The boy was asleep in Hermione's arms. The Ministry tried every spell they knew of, and some they didn't to try and figure out what she'd done to the Death Eater. He wouldn't wake up for three days, and when he did, he was yelling out apologies and pleas to make the pain go away, but the healers had no idea of what pain he was speaking of, his vitals were normal.

Hermione later explained to Harry and the Minister, Kingsly Shacklebolt that she'd placed him under a curse of her own, to relive the pain he caused the people he killed, one by one, and that it wouldn't stop until all his victim's deaths were relived. He killed forty seven people. He was currently at Azkaban, unresponsive to any and all.

It was only Hermione's past and reputation that kept her from joining him there as well. After that incident, people passed her with caution. The press assaulted her and the Ministry for well over a year, but the hubble eventually died down. Now however, Kingsly refused to put her on any kind of top priority case, and only recently began assigning her cold cases.

"Its ridiculous," she vented, "you know I could help!"

"I know it Hermione, but we cant take any chances with this maniac. The Ministry has to keep its hands clean, or he might get off, even if we do catch him."

"Promise me you'll talk to me if you need it Harry," he took a long look at her.

"Only if you promise me that you wont do anything rash. That you wont do anything you haven't run by me first." She nodded.

"Right then," said Harry, "can we please talk about something different? Something that isn't so depressing and doesn't give me such a headach?" Hermione smiled.

"Sorry Harry. Ok, its Saturday, lets do something that has absolutely nothing to do with the Ministry then. Starting with going to the market." She crammed the last bit of toast into her mouth, then set about dumping all the burnt toast in the bin, along with the toaster.


End file.
